An Orthodox Jewish woman goes rogue and becomes a feminist and a lawyer.

As I mentioned, I’ve been together with the bf for 2 months now. We started dating shortly after I finished my period, a month later I was out of town for a week when I next got my period, and so, this is the first time that I have been menstruating while in the same place as him.

We had plans to go out Saturday night. We had spent Saturday in different cities, and that’s when I got my period. I was a little nervous in telling him that I got it. I mean, we’ve only known each other for two months. I’ve been pretty open with him about everything in my life, but still, talking about menstruating and bleeding and all that is just not something I’m used to.

Call me a bad feminist, call me a prude, but I don’t like talking about the blood that comes out of my vagina. It makes me uncomfortable. It’s dirty. I know, feminists aren’t supposed to think like that, but I do.

I debated telling him on the phone about my new status, but I couldn’t figure out a way to discreetly say it, and I was still too uncomortable with the words to just come straight out and tell him directly. So I let it go.

He came over to pick me up, and immediately gave me a hug. I hugged him back, but apparently then made an uncomfortable face. He asked what was up. I said, “remember that niddah thing we were talking about…?” and he got it. I was extremely thankful that I didn’t have to go into more detail than that, but also immediately began thinking about next month, and if I could use the same line, or if I’m going to have to come up with a new euphemism every time, or if I’m just going to have to suck it up and get comfortable with talking about my body.

The date was both wonderful and frustrating. Wonderful because I really like him. I enjoy spending time with him, just talking. He’s really funny, and witty, and smart. We spoke about a lot of important topics.

Frustrating because, the whole night, all I wanted to do was lean over and kiss him. And I couldn’t. I could come close. I stood extremely close to him, looked up at his face when I was talking so that our faces were only inches away from each other, but I did not touch him. I wanted to so, so badly. And I’m pretty sure he felt the same way. There was a lot of body heat and chemistry between us. I started to understand this idea of “separation makes the heart grow fonder”, because all I wanted to do that night was take him back to my place and get busy with him.

But I didn’t. And I’m glad. I am glad that we had a great time without any physical touch, and I am glad that the lack of touch made our physical chemistry stronger. I just hope this feeling lasts.